


The Apology

by nothingeverlost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was uncomfortable, remembering the things that she had done when she’d been Lacey.  She wasn’t certain if it was more or less uncomfortable remembering the things that Rum had done.  It didn’t matter; only one of them was in Storybrooke now.  Only one of them could apologize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apology

It was uncomfortable, remembering the things that she had done when she’d been Lacey. She wasn’t certain if it was more or less uncomfortable remembering the things that Rum had done. It didn’t matter; only one of them was in Storybrooke now. Only one of them could apologize. 

There had been reparations owed to the White Rabbit for broken glass and a gouged pool table, though she’d found that Rum had already seen to that. Mr. Clark was owed an apology, though the man had blushed when she’d tried to explain what had happened by the chocolate syrup display. Granny had brushes her off with something that looked almost like a smirk. She wasn’t ready to face her father, and it was unwise to see Keith at all.

That left the doctor.

"Dr. Whale?" She was not brave enough to go to the hospital and see him. He came to the diner often enough, but she couldn’t count on that. Fortunately it was a small town, and it wasn’t hard to find out where he lived. When he didn’t answer her first knock she tried again.

She hadn’t expected the t-shirt and sweatpants. They were at odds with his grim expression. ”Ms. French.”

"I’d prefer Belle, please." French was the name the curse had given her, but it made her itch. Her father was French. Lacey hadn’t given it much thought, but hadn’t protested either.

"Thank the gods." The frown turned into a smile that was almost boyish; Belle could understand why people might think him charming.

"Pardon?" she asked, confused. She knew virtually nothing about the man, except for their one brief meeting, most of which Whale spent on his back, and not in the way his reputation suggested he might enjoy.

"You’re back. Gold must be ecstatic. He was not a pleasant person to be around, you know. I mean, less so than usual." Whale held the door open wider. "I have some coffee brewed, if you want to join me for breakfast. I was about to make frittata."

"You know who I am?" She’d come to make an apology, the most difficult one on her list, and instead found someone she might have thought was a friend, except that she didn’t know him.

"If you’re introducing yourself as Belle then you’re not Lacey. You’re back to being who you’re supposed to be, not the amnesiac from the hospital but the real you. And man, am I glad it happened before I had to do the whole lying down on the ground things again. My dry cleaner had a hell of a time getting those stains out." Out of habit and confusion she followed him to the kitchen and watched as he took a mug out of a cabinet.

"Lying down? Stains? Rum knocked you down. Lacey… I saw it. He threatened to…"

"Shit. I thought he would have explained. Guess I wasn’t supposed to say anything." Whale poured coffee in the mug. "Do you take sugar or cream?"

"I’d prefer the truth. What should he have explained to me?" There hadn’t been time for much, before he’d left on the boat. She hated having to rely on second hand accounts, but she would have to listen and form her own opinions. 

"The last thing I want is to get on Gold’s bad side. Trust me, it’s not a pretty place to be." Whale pulled eggs, cheese and vegetables from the fridge, setting them on the counter.

"I promise that you have nothing to worry about." Not with Neal dead, Henry gone, and Rumple off to find his grandson. Belle felt a flutter of worry, but refused to even think about the possibility that she might not see her love again.

"I’ll hold you to that." As he talked he worked, his hands moving with grace as he sliced up the food. "Gold and I go back. Way back. I won’t tell you how far, because I don’t look that old, but we have a working relationship of sorts. It’s been rocky at times, but mutually beneficial for the most part. Last week he showed up and told me about a bit of a conundrum he had."

"He asked for your help?" Rum didn’t ask for help, not that she’d seen. Other people insisted on his help all the time, but he only took what he could bargain for.

"He made me a deal. He needed to look like he was threatening someone, but he didn’t want to actually hurt anyone. In a strange sort of way you might say it was a courting gesture," he huffed out a soft laugh. "Sorry, that’s probably not amusing."

"Lacey was attracted to the danger in him." She’d spent a good part of the last few days, wondering how much of Lacey was Regina’s creation and how much was her own darker side.

"He had to walk a fine line, impressing her without alienating you. You matter to him; I’ve never seen that in all the years I’ve known him."

"So the come on to Lacey…"

"Scripted. The whole thing was." Whale broke eggs with a single hand, whisking them into a bowl before pouring them into a pan along with the vegetables.

"He didn’t hurt you?" Belle wasn’t sure how she felt or if she could even digest the new information. It had been a long couple of days and she was on the edge of not being able to handle much more. Not alone.

"I’m not Gold’s favorite person and he’s not mine, but no, he didn’t hurt me." Whale turned from the stove and pulled out a chair. "Look, why don’t you sit and have that coffee? Breakfast will be ready in a few and we can talk about this more or we can talk about something completely unrelated. I suspect it’s been a tough couple of days for you; I remember that it was for me, when the curse broke."

"You don’t have to, you know. I just came here to apologize." Now that the last of her apologies were made she felt drained. And confused; what did she do now?

"I don’t have to, but I want to. You must be someone pretty special, Belle. I think you might be worth getting to know."

"Thank you, Doctor W…"

"Victor. You can call me Victor."


End file.
